Demons and Dark Places
by Inuzuka-93
Summary: Five years after the war, 19 year old Dennis Creevey finds himself working in the Leaky Cauldron. The ghosts of his past continue to haunt him but he finds comfort in a spur of the moment friendship with Seamus Finnigan. But he has a secret and if Seamus finds out will their blossoming romance wither and die? Or can they see past each other's imperfections and be happy? Graphic M/M
1. Chapter 1: The Leaky Cauldron

_**Note. I have written some fairly graphic content (predominantly between same sex couples) so if you are squeamish or religious I would recommend reading it anyway and converting to the dark side - it's not so bad, I swear. I own nothing, well, I own some things but none of the intellectual property present in this story. Don't sue me. **_

_**Demons and Dark Places**_

_**Chapter 1: The Leaky Cauldron**_

The boy slipped through the door, his slight frame indiscernible to the rest of the noisy bar, and took a seat at the far end of the long table that ran up the middle of the room. The toothless bartender was the only one to raise a grey eyebrow at the teenager's appearance – he was wrapped in a filthy, torn tweed jacket which had evidently belonged to somebody much larger for the sleeves had been rolled up several times and the hem fell to his skinny knees. Tom had owned the Leaky Cauldron long enough to know it was often better not to ask questions and allow his patrons to get on with whatever business they had – especially after all that nasty affair with the Death Eater occupation a couple of years back – but something about the boy's dirty face tugged at the old man's heartstrings. It was a young face, he couldn't be much more than 17 if even that old, but his big brown eyes were tired and bore the signs of hardship that Tom had begun to associate with the less fortunate youths of the war – the ones who were broken.

The boy ran a hand through his mousy brown hair before letting out a deep breath he didn't seem to realise he'd been holding. Maybe he was going soft in his old age but before he could even think Tom had appeared at the boy's side with a room key for the night and a flagon of hot chocolate. The boy's eyes filled with salty tears as he opened his mouth to offer his appreciation but was cut off by a wave from the bar man.

"You look like you could use a bed for the night and we ain't busy," Tom said, then, noticing the state of the rags the boy was wearing, added, "I'll send up a change of clothes in the morning."

"Thank you," he looked down at the table. "I have nowhere else to go."

"What about school?" Tom suggested, August having just brought the annual influx of parents and their children preparing for the new term at Hogwarts. The onset of September was usually accompanied by mass vacancies until Christmas time. A glass shattered somewhere at the other end of the bar and they both turned to see a blushing, middle-aged witch in a burgundy cloak drunkenly failing to repair the smashed fragments to the delight of her companions. It gave the boy cause to smile and Tom could not care less about the damage.

"I'm 19," the boy said finally, "I left Hogwarts already."

"19, eh?" Tom was surprised. "What's your name, boy?"

"Dennis," he answered slowly, perhaps debating whether or not to be honest. His eyes wandering back to the door occasionally as if waiting for someone to burst through it at any moment, and perhaps someone would, but there would be no trouble tonight – or any night for that matter – the pub was too closely linked with the Order of the Phoenix and the Department of Magical Law.

"I'm Tom," the old barman held out an arthritic hand which the boy shook nervously but seemed to sense the man's kindness enough to stop himself from quivering. "If you don't mind me saying, you look like you've not slept in weeks and it just so happens I'm in need of an extra bar hand if you're interested in the work."

"Yes, sir!" Dennis was on his feet, enthusiastic. "I can start right away if you like!"

"That won't be necessary my boy," Tom laughed. "Finish your hot chocolate and go have a rest, Merlin knows you look like you could use it. We can do your interview in the morning."

And with that said, he stood and returned to the bar to serve an impatient regular who claimed he had been ready to transfigure the maid into a pint glass.

Dennis drank up and thanked Tom once more before bidding him good night and retiring to the room according to the tag on the key. The old man watched the boy go and could not help but consider his story; to ponder what could have caused him to slip through the cracks. He checked his watch then rang the bell above the bar to signal last orders and watched as some customers grudgingly lifted their coats and left as others made their way to the bar for a last drink before braving the weather.

Once he had locked himself away in his new – surprisingly comforting – lodgings, noticing that there were two single beds on opposite ends, Dennis shouldered the jacket from his body and peeled the tatters of his jeans from his stiff legs and flung both items on the nearest bed. How far had he walked? The better question was probably, how long had it been since he'd showered? He carried his tired body to the bathroom and began running the water in the bath and discarding the rest of his clothes on the floor.

He looked at his face in the mirror and almost didn't recognise the person looking back at him. He knew the ordeal he had been through would change him but he didn't expect to see a stranger in his reflection. He remembered a time, not so long ago, when he had first started at Hogwarts. He and his brother used to pull faces at each other in the bathroom mirror when they were brushing their teeth; it had been Colin's way of taking Dennis's mind off of home. Would he be disgusted now? Would he blame Dennis for not being able to protect their parents? He looked away from the now foggy glass and pushed all thoughts of what the war had taken away from him, his fingers subconsciously finding the now healed scars that covered him from hip bone to ribcage as he waited for the tub to fill.

He inspected the bottles and soaps that littered the rim of the bath and spared no time in upending them into the steaming water. Before long, the entire room was awash with stray bubbles of all colours as Dennis slipped into the water and began scrubbing a month's worth of grime from every inch of his body. His skin felt foreign beneath his finger tips and his blood cells seemed to ignite under his palms. As he rubbed the soap into his skin he became aroused for what felt like the first time in forever. He closed his eyes and let the lust take over, his left hand wrapped around his erection as his right roamed around from his thigh up to his nipples and back. He had never had any sexual experiences so he thought of nothing in particular and just concentrated on the feeling of his own skin and before long he was arching his back and coming into the water. He lay there panting in the warmth of the bath, unmoving except for each heavy rise and fall of his chest. When he finally regained his breath he opened his eyes and was startled to see the bubbles around his chest were tinged pink with blood – he had managed to claw a shallow gash across his sternum in the throes of his orgasm. Feeling more than a little queasy, he stood up and clambered out of the bath.

It was cold out of the water. He spun around to find a towel that was warm from the radiator and wrapped it around his pale, shivering shoulders as the bath emptied. The bedroom had begun to heat up while he was in the bath but he wasted no time in diving beneath the covers with the towel still on his body. Cosy, he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes.

His blood seemed to boil during the night and he was, altogether, quite restless. By morning, he calculated that he must have had only a couple hours of sleep, remembering only the faintest shadows of the nightmares that had kept him awake and had his heart pounding against his chest. He sat up slowly, rubbed his eye and clambered out of bed just as exhausted as he had been when he had clambered into it. To his surprise, the rags he'd left in a heap had been replaced by a neatly folded pile of fresh clothes – they were a combination of socks, underwear, check-patterned shirts and old jeans, fairly tatty but much better than what he had grown accustomed to wearing. He slipped a red and white plaid shirt over his slim shoulders and was thankful to find it fit him like a glove as he worked his way up the buttons. The jeans were a little loose but he kept them on his waist with an old belt he had pulled out of a drawer.

He looked at himself in the mirror at the foot of his bed. Despite the clothes being fresh, the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes gave him a look of inherent shabbiness that he was steadily becoming to associate with himself as time went on.

"Where's my wand," he said aloud to himself as he frantically began searching the small room, stripping the sheets from the bed and upending them. He shook a pillow and a slim, engraved stretch of wood rolled out of the case onto the floor. He picked it up and rubbed it on his jeans out of habit before giving it a wave and magically dumping all the linen back onto the mattress in a heap. He had envisioned them folding themselves in his head but the end result of his spells had never been particularly polished – Colin had once told him that his lack of finesse with a wand was because he was definitely part elf even though Colin's own had been no better. Dennis missed his brother's teasing, even after five years he could still hear his voice as clear as a whistle.

He shook the thoughts away before he could fall into a depression and checked the time. Tom had not specified any particular time to go downstairs but he was desperate to show his gratitude and so he returned to the bar, almost flying down the stairs, where he had met the old man only to find a pretty girl waltzing around and tidying up. She couldn't have been much older than him so they had probably gone to school together however briefly but he didn't know her name. She was whistling while she moved crates and boxes with occasional flicks of her wand and never once looked up from the tables she was cleaning.

Dennis watched with mild fascination but soon realised he must look incredibly awkward gawking at a girl casting a few levitation charms. He cleared his throat as she stopped whistling to look up at him. Clearly surprised, her face softened and her eyes sparkled as she stood up straight and said, "You must be Dennis. Tom told me about you this morning, I'm Hannah."

She smiled warmly and Dennis recognised her immediately as Hannah Abbott from their DA meetings at Hogwarts. He didn't blame her for not knowing him right away, the last time they had seen each other he had been thirteen and not battle worn. He replied softly, "Yeah, I remember you from school."

Her eyes fixated on his as she tucked stray blond hair behind her ear and searched her mind before her eyes widened and she shrieked, "Creevey! You're little Dennis Creevey! I just knew I remembered your face from somewhere."

She closed the gap between them in two strides and pulled him into a hug before placing her hands on his shoulders to examine him at an arm's length. Even though he had grown in the six years since they'd last seen each other she was still about half a head taller. She tilted his head up from his chin to look into his eyes then turned it to the side to continue her examination. She then let go of him and took a step back after deeming he was underfed and needed breakfast. She took him by the wrist and led him to the kitchen, igniting the stove with a flourish of her wand as soon as she stepped through the door and immediately began throwing food onto a frying pan, all the while questioning him on where he had been.

"I've just been around," he replied despondently realising he hadn't really done much since he left Hogwarts. "I went back to school after the war but I was never great at spells. I did manage to get a few OWLs but I never really decided what I wanted to do with them. What about you?"

"I trained as a healer," she answered whilst flipping bacon. "So I do apologise for the physical exam I gave you back there – it's a hard habit to shake. I even worked in St Mungo's for a while as well but, I don't know, I guess I saw too much at the Battle of Hogwarts..."

Dennis could tell they were on the brink of talking about his brother but he quickly changed the subject. He respected Hannah's sympathies and they meant a lot to him but he didn't want to open up old wounds twice in the space of one hour so instead he politely asked, "Do you hear from anyone else in the DA?"

"Yeah, actually," she smiled warmly and held up her left hand to show a sparkly diamond engagement ring. "Neville asked me to marry him."

Dennis was blown away by the announcement and was surprised to find that the news stirred up some much forgotten excitement in the pit of his stomach. He had always liked Neville and was overwhelmingly happy to hear that he and Hannah had got together. Hannah swiftly finished cooking by upending the full English breakfast onto a plate and floated it and two cups of tea back into the bar where they took a seat.

"Congratulations, by the way," Dennis said between mouthfuls. "I'm glad you and Neville are happy. Do you hear from anyone else?"

"We still see Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione all the time," Hannah sipped from her cup as she thought about it. "I got an owl from Luna just the other day – she's on a safari in Africa – and Seamus lives nearby so he stops in every now and then and everyone else gets in touch when they can. Some people – not naming names – decided to slip under the radar though."

She tapped Dennis on the nose playfully before she stood up and announced that she should finish setting up before Tom got back but he was to keep her company and finish his breakfast. He agreed and was suddenly very relieved he had not walked past the Leaky Cauldron the night before.

"Oh and I should say before I forget," Hannah called from the other side of the room. "If you ever feel under the weather you can talk to me. I know my way around a cauldron."

Dennis's heart leapt into his throat.


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

_**Chapter 2: Diagon Alley**_

Seamus stumbled naked across his bedroom to close the curtains and block out the intrusion of morning light. He had broken his wand and cursed himself silently as he clambered back under the covers. He was hungover and getting up had been a mistake as he was now very much awake and without energy. He groaned and forced himself up and got dressed remembering he had promised Hannah and Neville that he would help out around the Leaky Cauldron while he was out of work. He was regretting it now, of course, but he had initially enjoyed the distraction from his real life; now it seemed more and more likely that he would work there forever. It was not that he could not find work - he had been headhunted by the auror office three times – but he had spent enough of his life fighting. Seamus just had not yet found where he belonged. And there was nothing wrong with that.

He was on the subway within the hour and at the leaky cauldron before noon. As he approached he saw Tom, the barman, leaving and Seamus had to wonder what business the man had in muggle London but it was not his place to ask; the man had been kind enough to offer Seamus work when there was none so Seamus waved and offered the brightest smile he could muster – though it probably fell quite short of what he had been attempting.

"Hello Seamus," Tom smiled back. "You're early ain't you?"

"Yeah," replied Seamus. "I'm going to do a bit of shopping before I start."

"Right you are, boy," Tom broke off, coughing and spluttering before waving Seamus inside the pub and continuing on his way.

Seamus looked on after the old man before doing as he was instructed. The pub was quiet, only one table of regulars sat at one side of the room, opposite the bar. Hannah stood by the radio which was playing something by the Weird Sisters that Seamus did not know. Leaning on his elbows, with his head in his hands, at the bar was a slim boy Seamus was sure he recognised but could not quite put his finger on where from. He had dark circles under his amber-brown eyes and a head of thick mousy brown hair. Seamus's gaze travelled down the boy's neck line to where he saw the faintest edge of a scar but before he could explore any further Hannah had turned and called him over. His eyes flicked over to the boy as he made his way over to Hannah and a cheeky smile spread over his young face as he noticed Seamus looking at him.

"Dennis, get your backside over here."

"Dennis," Seamus mused under his breath as he took a seat in front of the blond girl who was now being joined by the boy. "All right Hannah?"

"Magic," she smiled. "You remember Dennis? From the D.A.?"

Seamus felt his eyes widen with shock and he tried to hide it as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Dennis Creevey, thought Seamus. It really was unmistakeable and now that his name was in Seamus's head – he remembered the boy right away. He immediately reached out and shook his hand with genuine delight to be reacquainted.

"Good to see you again," Seamus grinned. The younger boy had always reminded Seamus of himself when they were at Hogwarts – though perhaps not so moody. "So it's starting to feel like a reunion in here. When's Hermione taking a job?"

Dennis and Hannah both laughed and Hannah reminded Seamus that Hermione Granger could probably do the job better than any of them with her eyes shut and one hand tied behind her back. Seamus agreed and found himself staring when Dennis moved to serve a customer. He suited the job and seemed to really enjoy interacting with the older witches and wizards who came to the bar. He made small talk with the witch who was waiting for her pint. She was an old crone of a woman who drank stout and Seamus had always been particularly fond of her ramblings. Her name was Muriel and she had a knack for divination and would look for signs in everything from the number of crows she passed to predict the weather forecast to the sound a glass made when it broke to tell the time. Now, she told Dennis, she was trying to source the next outbreak of dragon pox by examining the froth on her drink.

He shared a look with Hannah as the woman returned to her seat and they had to conceal their laughter behind their hands. Their generation, having been taught by Sybill Trelawney, had no faith in the art of divination and thus found it hilarious whenever the older men and women practised it so religiously. Dennis returned to Hannah's side dutifully and asked if anything needed doing but she dismissed him and suggested he take a break.

"You do look tired, pal," said Seamus, noticing the boy's blood-shot eyes again and, now that he was close, he realised just how odd their colour was, definitely more amber than brown.

"Nah," Dennis replied, dropping his gaze and rubbing the bar half-heartedly with a cloth. "I won't sleep if I try to right now, though I am getting kind of hungry."

"Well," Seamus began addressing Dennis. "I need to go pick some stuff up in Diagon Alley before I start work. If you want you can come with and we can bring something back for the three of us."

The boy looked at Hannah who nodded warmly before telling him she could manage the bar on her own with a wink. He thanked the girl before throwing his apron up on the hook by the kitchen door and following the Irish boy out to the courtyard. It was around 1 o'clock so the sun was still quite high in the sky and it easily lit the small space. Seamus counted the bricks from the dustbin and tapped the correct one three times and stood back. The wall opened up onto the bustling cobbled streets of Diagon Alley.

"So what do you need to pick up?" Dennis asked as he followed Seamus's steps. "It's been ages since I've come to Diagon Alley."

"Me too, Dennis," Seamus smiled earnestly. "I need a new wand and some potions I ordered from the Apothecary. After that, we can go wherever you like."

"What kind of potions can you order at the Apothecary?" Dennis asked. "Are they very expensive?"

"Er," Seamus began, somewhat surprised by the boy's interest. "They'll brew just about anything legal, I guess. They can be expensive though – you need to pay for all the ingredients and there's a brewing charge depending on how hard it is."

"Oh," was all Dennis said in reply.

"I'd normally just ask Hannah but I didn't want her to know what potion I needed," Seamus could not stop himself for some reason and was about to elaborate but they had arrived at the Apothecary. "Do you want to wait outside for two minutes?"

Dennis agreed and Seamus went into the store without him. The place had not changed much over the years and the walls were still lined with jars upon jars of some of the most peculiar ingredients but Seamus paid them no attention as he stepped up to the counter and rang the bell. Old Mr Mulpepper came shuffling to the front with his face in a permanent sneer. Seamus gave his name and the man disappeared into the back once more and returned with three vials of a bright yellow potion that looked like watery paint. Seamus paid and immediately drained one of the vials before storing the other two securely in the inside pocket of his jacket.

When he returned to the streets he found Dennis chasing a cat that was yewling and hissing at him on its haunches as he tried to calm it down. With every inch closer he got, the angrier the animal became until it had had enough and leapt at him, clawing at every inch of skin it could reach. Seamus rushed over and the cat disappeared.

"What was that about?" Seamus asked raising an eyebrow and realising Dennis looked just as confused. "Was it possessed or something?"

"I have no idea," Dennis admitted. "I just wanted to pet it..."

"Come on," laughed Seamus, putting an arm around the boy's shoulder and leading him to the new wand shop that had opened in place of Ollivander's. "So what you been up to Dennis?"

The boy looked up into Seamus's face as they walk side by side. He paused to think before he raplied, "Not much to be fair. Went back to Hogwarts, left again and now I'm here. Had a lot of bad jobs before this one. What about you?"

"Pretty much the same I guess," Seamus smiled wondering whether he should elaborate. "I started working for the ministry. I've always wanted to work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports but I ended up in the Ludicrous Patents Division – yes it was as boring as it sounds. Long story short, they sacked me and I haven't decided where I want to go from here."

"Well, I'm glad I'll get to work with a familiar face, at least," Dennis seemed happy as he chirped on about how he had never considered bar work before and how he had never even really had a drink himself but said nothing more about his past. As they arrived at the wand store Dennis asked, "What happened to your wand anyway?"

"I snapped it, last night," Seamus's tone said that was all he had to say about the matter but he smiled, nevertheless, as he led the way into the shop. They spent a good half hour waving wands and shooting sparks until he found a wand that suited him. He paid quickly and they took to finding somewhere to get food from themselves and Hannah. There was a new sandwich shop near where Florean's used to be and Dennis announced he had few memories of Diagon Alley other than the ice-cream.

By the time they got back to the pub, Seamus was due to start his shift and Hannah was finish up hers. She stayed for lunch and a glass of wine before she announced she had to go visit Neville's grandmother in St Mungo's then decided she would drain another glass of wine first in preparation.

"Remember not to fly, you're over the limit," Seamus called out to her as she reached the door where she then turned and gave him a rude gesture and disappeared into the bustling Charing Cross road. Seamus noticed Dennis's worried look before explaining that Hannah had a fear of flying and that there was no danger of her picking up a broomstick to get anywhere. Dennis smiled before he returned to his position behind the bar and lifted his apron and helped Seamus through the rest of his shift until close.

Tom returned to the pub late into the night and did not stay long. He admired the work of the two boys and turned in for the night telling them to lock up when they were finished. There were no guests staying at the inn so it was quiet by the time everyone had gone. Seamus took some money out of his pocket and dropped it into the till before taking two bottles of cheap beer to the booth where Dennis had curled up like someone's pet. He thanked Seamus and took one of the bottles as the older boy sat down opposite him.

"So what do you think of the place?" Seamus asked, raising his bottle to his lips. "It's all right isn't it?"

"I love it," Dennis nodded, dribbling most of his own beer down his chin. "And I'm really glad that you and Hannah are here."

Seamus laughed and they enjoyed the rest of their drink in silence before Seamus announced that he ought to get back home, "I'll show you how to lock up."

"You could just have another drink with me and stay here," Dennis spoke softly. "I have a spare bed in my room."

Seamus thought about it, remembering he had been drunk the previous night as well, before deciding he would stay. They each put in half the price and bought a bottle of fire whiskey between them – Seamus made sure to lock up first before they started drinking lest they forget during the night. Dennis had grimaced initially as the alcohol had scorched his throat but he admitted after several glasses that he enjoyed the warm feeling it gave him in his belly. Seamus told the boy about his old town in Ireland and growing up.

"When I first started to show signs of magic," Seamus started, unaware of how thick his accent was becoming the more he spoke of home, "I accidentally set me own hair on fire. From then on it became a talent. I might not be able to float a feather across the room but I can blow it up with a wink."

Dennis laughed and told the story of how Colin had "become" a wizard, "Everything he touched turned green – even my hair went green. It was pretty wicked."

"And what about you?" Seamus asked. "How did you know?"

"I fell out the window and floated back up the wall before I hit the ground," Dennis said, struggling a little through the drunken stupor that had suddenly fallen upon him. "I think."

Seamus split the dribble that was left of the whiskey between their two glasses and they drained them before Dennis led Seamus to his bedroom. It was warmer upstairs than it was down in the pub and Dennis pointed Seamus to the spare bed before ducking into the bathroom. Seamus stretched groggily before pulling his clothes off down to his underwear and dived under the covers just as he heard the toilet flush and Dennis returned. He had stripped down in the bathroom and Seamus caught brief glimpse of the boy's bare chest as he turned out the light. He listened for the other boy getting settled in the other bed before he spoke.

"Dennis?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah?"

"How did you get that scar?"

"Sleepy," he yawned in response. "Tell you about it tomorrow. G'night."

"Night," replied Seamus and he drifted off instantly.


	3. Chapter 3: Warnings

_**Chapter 3: Warnings**_

When Dennis awoke, the sun was bright through the thin curtains of his bedroom. It took him a good ten minutes to gather his thoughts and remember the events of the night before. He smiled as he turned to see the other body in the bed across the room, his chest rising and falling steadily. He checked the time – it was still half an hour before opening time but he had no idea what hours Tom wanted him to work so he thought he should probably get up. His sleep had been peaceful for once and he had to consider whether or not it was due to all the firewhiskey.

He pulled some clothes out of the dresser at the foot of his bed and tugged and pulled them onto his small frame before going downstairs to see who was there. Tom was milling about behind the bar. He looked the healthiest Dennis had ever seen him; he was smiling and humming away to himself when he noticed Dennis.

"Good morning, my boy," Tom said through his toothless grin. "Sleep well?"

"Great," replied Dennis. "What hours shall I work today?"

"Hannah's left a rota in the kitchen if you want to have a look," Tom laughed. He returned to mopping the floor and muttering happily under his breath what sounded like, "That girl!"

"Thanks Tom," Dennis took the bartender's word and found a weekly rota pinned to the wall opposite the sink. It was a small stretch of parchment with four names crossed with the seven days of the week. He had the day off and would be working with Tom the following night. He was looking forward to it as he had not had the chance yet to work with the owner and the man had done so much for him already that he wanted to show him his faith was not misplaced.

"You can go back to bed, son," Tom laughed. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks. Kill that hangover of yours."

Dennis flushed red as he realised he did feel rougher than he had ten minutes earlier and thanked Tom before thundering back up the stairs to throw up in his bathroom. His mouth tasted of whiskey and vomit and he subconsciously stripped back to his small clothes and got back into bed much to the laughter of his temporary roommate who was now awake.

"Feeling a bit tender, Creevey?" Seamus's voice was smug.

"Shut up," Dennis replied half-heartedly though his eyes followed Seamus's body as the older boy got out of bed to go to the toilet. He hoped that he had not left the floor covered in sick but he pushed the thought out of his mind and listened to the birds chirping outside the window and was tempted to fire a blasting curse at them. Seamus returned and sat on the edge of the bed he had slept in. Dennis could not peel his eyes away from Seamus's almost naked form, his gaze resting on the Irish boy's waistband. He scrunched his eyes shut when he realised Seamus was watching him.

"Like what you see, Dennis?" Seamus joked as he swung his legs back onto the bed and lay on his back on top of the covers. "I don't blame you."

"No," Dennis felt his face grow hot. "I wasn't even looking at you, I was daydreaming. Besides, I lived at Hogwarts for five years so you're hardly the first person I've ever seen in their boxers."

Seamus laughed and threw a pillow at him, calling him stupid. Dennis did feel pretty stupid. He did not know why he was being so awkward. It was probably just the hangover but his head was all over the place – so much so that he did not hear Seamus's question.

"Dennis?"

"What?" the boy replied. "Sorry."

"You said you'd tell me about your scar last night," Seamus reminded him. "Still want to talk about it?"

"You saw that?" Dennis groaned.

"Well, you've seen my body," Seamus laughed again. "Tell me about it."

Dennis hesitated as he remembered the event with clarity: being dragged from the family's hideout by Death Eaters by the scruff of his neck; being beaten for days and thrown in a basement and mauled...His throat went dry as he tried to recount the story so he changed it.

"It was nothing major," Dennis lied. "It's from School, I got too close to the Whomping Willow in first year and Professor Snape told Madame Pomfrey not to heal the scars to teach me a lesson. That's all."

Seamus did not seem convinced but listened to the story with no complaint all the same. He smiled a cheeky smile across the room before telling Dennis about the injuries he had received in school and Dennis was somewhat surprised to find that most of them had been self-inflicted. It turned out that Seamus had been as clumsy a spell caster as Dennis in the beginning. They ended up discussing all the times they had set themselves on fire (having completely forgotten they had talked about it the night before) and had a good laugh about it all.

"So, it's cool that Neville and Hannah are engaged, isn't it?" Dennis asked after silence had fallen on the room once more. "Like, I never expected it to happen between them."

"Yeah, it's grand," Seamus agreed. "They're really good together, though she worries about him at the auror office."

"What about you?" Dennis asked after a moment's pause.

"Yes, I live in fear over Longbottom's safety," Seamus laughed. "Just because I didn't want the job doesn't mean anyone else shouldn't."

Dennis flushed as Seamus never got his question. Or maybe he did and was just making fun of him, Dennis wasn't sure but he decided it best to pose the question again just to be sure.

"I meant, you're not engaged," he tried again.

"Thanks for reminding me," Seamus laughed. "I hadn't realised."

"It was supposed to be a question," Dennis moaned, burying his face in his pillow and feeling like an idiot. "Ignore me, I'm hungover."

"It's all right, I'm definitely not engaged and have no intentions of it," Seamus grinned. "And no, I don't have a girlfriend before you ask. What's that?"

Dennis followed Seamus's finger point to the large chart he had tacked above his bed. It was a large, black poster with clusters of stars and moons and their phases above a table that held dates and details of alignments and properties. It was one of the only possessions he had managed to consistently carry without damaging over the past few years. It had originally belonged to Colin so he treated it with more care than anything else he owned.

"It's a star chart," Dennis replied. "I always liked astronomy and I stole it from my brother's trunk one summer. It's not like he can use it now, I suppose."

"I was never any good at it," Seamus sidestepped talking about Colin for he wouldn't know where to begin and instead directed the conversation towards Astronomy. "So, is there anything big coming up on that chart?"

"Well," the boy said, regaining his energy and sitting up on his knees and letting the quilt fall from his shoulders as he turned to look at the chart. "What's the date?"

"Er," Seamus watched the boy's every move as he wracked his brain for any coherent thought. "The 12th of November."

Dennis jumped and almost fell off the bed as he unfolded and checked another page that had been held shut with tape, cross referencing different alignments and dates before he sat back down on the bed, crossing his legs under him and looking at Seamus. He looked nervous and uncomfortable but he probably just wasn't used to being given so much attention and Seamus was completely enthralled. He had not realised how far on in the year it was and had been shocked at what he had seen on the chart.

"As a matter of fact," Dennis whispered, building the tension in the room. "Something dreadful is about to happen this very week; something unavoidable and catastrophic to our world."

"What is it?" Seamus asked with genuine interest.

"The moon is in its final quarter," Dennis spoke softly. "And something strange is about to happen to Uranus."

"What do you mean?" Seamus asked.

"Well the first part is easy, werewolves will start going mad but as for the second part, how should I know? It's Your Anus, not mine."

Dennis clutched his ribs as he laughed at his own terrible joke and received another pillow to the face from Seamus across the room. The laughter was infectious though, and soon Seamus had joined in. Dennis did, however, check the chart once more before they got dressed but anything he saw on it, he kept to himself.

Seamus was working at the bar that afternoon so he did not bother going home and, instead jumped in a quick shower in Dennis's room and wore the same clothes as the night before – minus the sweater to give the illusion he had changed. Dennis stayed up in his room for a few more hours pulling out more charts and graphs from under his bed. When he started he found it hard to stop – it became an obsession and before long he was sweating and anxious. He stood up and grabbed the coat that hung behind the door that Tom had sent up for him on his first night and decided to go for a walk through Diagon Alley to clear his head.

When he got there he visited the menagerie to look at the animals to find that most of them shied away from him like he were some sort of monster but, to be fair, he had never really been great with pets in the first place so they probably just sensed his inexperience was all. Afterwards he went to the Apothecary that Seamus had attended and asked for some advice on potion brewing books and was directed to a complicated text which he immediately went to view at Flourish and Blotts. It was very expensive when he found it. He could afford the book but then he would be unable to afford any ingredients. He considered stealing the book but he could not bring himself to commit the act – even in his desperation. Instead he left the shop with his head hanging and his world unravelling around him. He was finally in a good place and he was going to have to leave it all behind because he had been careless.

When he returned to the pub, it was late in the evening and Hannah was on the bar with Seamus. The girl was not due to be working till the next night but she seemed anxious. Her eyes widened when Dennis entered through the courtyard door and rushed over to him.

"I was worried sick about you," she proclaimed, her hands finding his shoulders almost as if she were about to strangle him. "Where have you been?"

"I went for a walk?" Dennis was shocked.

"Did you find any?" She shook him slightly.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Dennis's temper snapped, having used all his energy trying not to become a thief but, rather than respond, Hannah took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom.

"Open it," she instructed glancing behind them as Dennis fiddled with his key. "Hurry up."

Dennis turned the key in the lock and was swiftly shoved inside, Hannah right on his heels behind him, closing the door behind them both. She took him over to the bed and sat him down whilst apparently trying to say ten sentences all at once. How she knew as soon as he walked through the door and how he should have come to her rather than leaving it all to the last minute.

"I made this because I was sure you would forget – they always do for the first few years," she tossed a vial of a pale blue liquid that seemed to be smoking lightly within the glass. "I've enough ingredients for the rest of the week but we'll need to be more prepared in future."

"You knew?" Dennis's jaw fell open. "How could you possibly know?"

"I told you!" Hannah replied. "I trained as a healer. I was in the infectious curses department; I can spot the symptoms a mile away. Unless your eyes were always a completely unnatural colour and you always wondered around half asleep then say I'm mistaken but as far as I can tell you're a –"

"DON'T," Dennis shouted, clutching the potion in his shaking fist. "Please, Hannah, don't say it out loud."

"Hey," Hannah said, her tone dropping to a motherly coo as she sat down on the bed beside Dennis and rubbed his shoulders as he began to cry. "Hey, shush, there's nothing wrong with you, it's not your fault. It could have happened to anyone in this pub. We'll just need to try stay on top of it, okay?"

"Okay," Dennis sobbed as he held the vial to his chest. "I thought I was going to be too late and have to run again."

"Don't check your watch yet but if you don't drink that soon, we will be too late."

"It's a pity you can't put sugar in it though isn't it?" Dennis posed the question before unscrewing the cork and swallowing the entire contents of the glass vial. "Bleh, it's ghastly."

"So I've been told," laughed Hannah.

"So what now?" Dennis asked, worried that the girl would throw him out. "What should I do?"

"You should get some sleep, you've got work in the morning," she smiled and cupped the boy's cheek before getting up. "We'll sort this out, okay?"

"Before you go," Dennis asked. "It might be a stupid question but how did you know tonight was the first night? I don't suppose you usually keep track of the lunar cycle?"

Hannah laughed loudly and replied, "No, not usually. It was one of Mad Muriel's warnings – maybe the old hag has more talent than we give her credit for."

"Thank you Hannah," Dennis spoke quietly. "But could you not mention any of this to Seamus?"

The girl looked surprised but she agreed and bid him goodnight. Dennis sat up a long while that night, the potion soothing the pressure in his blood that always accompanied the seven days before the full moon. He was grateful for Hannah's interference but now all he could think about was what would happen during the change. If, like Hannah had said, he managed to take the potion every night from now till the full moon, he would retain his own mind during the change and wouldn't go on a murderous rampage. Would he just stay in his room and cower under the bed till it went away? Did the pub have kennels? He laughed at the thought and allowed himself to drift off into a blissful sleep, the aconite already working to numb the effects of his lycanthropy.


	4. Chapter 4: London Cocktail Club

**WARNING: Graphic content present in this chapter. Pretty much the last half of the chapter if you're not interested in the plot (If anyone ever reads this at least) You have been warned. **

**Chapter 4: London Cocktail Club**

"I don't believe you, Muriel," Dennis was saying as he poured the old witch a pint of her favourite stout. As he poured he struggled to remember anyone else ever buying it while he had been there, it was definitely not a popular drink. "It's definitely a coincidence, there's no way you predicted the Dragon Pox epidemic in Africa from your empty glass."

"No she read it in the prophet!" one of the old woman's companions called from their table with a cackle, much to Muriel's irritation, forcing Dennis to mask his chuckle with a cough. The woman merely tilted her face away from her friends and paid for her drink whilst announcing she would be joining Dennis at the bar and having nothing more to do with them.

"I won't predict anything for any of them again for as long as I live, I won't," she scoffed and looked like she was tempted to throw in some obscenities for good measure but decided against it. She turned her attention back to Dennis who tried to look busy with the log book but found he had nothing else to do but entertain the old crone's desire to talk to him. "So, I see you're still keeping well and behaving, young man. Bit peculiar at this time of the month for your sort is it not?"

"Muriel, please," said Dennis almost desperately, glancing around at the other customers and hoping that none of them had heard for it was fairly easy to put two and two together. "They don't know."

"Oh nonsense," she laughed. "We _all _know boy, it's hardly like you even try hiding it, I swear."

Dennis felt his jaw drop as he stared around at all of the regulars. It was the night before the full moon and he was being told that they all knew he was a werewolf and they were all still here as if they did not care. What about all the stories of prejudice against werewolves he'd heard of? Was it all exaggeration?

"They all know I'm a..." Dennis trailed off, his mouth going dry.

"A homosexual," Muriel finished for him. "Of course they do, it's obvious. The way you stare at that boy, Seamus, even a blind fool couldn't miss it. Nobody cares, I promise you my darling. Now that Seamus is quite something, though, isn't he..."

"Muriel!" Dennis felt his face flush red and he found himself laughing and decided he liked the old woman even if she were completely wrong. He _didn't _stare at Seamus did he? They had barely been in each other's company since Dennis had started working in the Leaky Cauldron the week before. He could admit to himself that he did sometimes hang around after work to chat with the older boy but it was not because he was attracted to him. Though he did agree he was very good looking. "It's not that obvious is it?"

"As clear as a day in April," Muriel replied obviously forgetting that April in London was usually fraught with rain and unpredictability – though perhaps it was exactly what she had meant considering she was a fortune teller and could _always_ predict the weather. "I saw it in my tea leaves this morning as well that – no, I probably shouldn't."

"You can't just leave me hanging," Dennis laughed. "What did you see?"

The old woman leaned in close, over the bar and whispered in his ear, "I saw a lump of soggy tea."

She guffawed and laughed, slapping her knee and drinking her bitter pint while Dennis grinned and enjoyed her attitude, finally understanding why everyone appreciated the old woman's batty ramblings. She was crude and ridiculous but she was well aware of it and happy to poke fun at herself. He also recalled that her fondness for divination had saved his hide this week as, six days prior, she had predicted a werewolf transformation which had spurred Hannah into making wolfsbane potion for him. Yes, Dennis was fond of Mad Muriel.

Just then, Seamus entered through the front door, his hair wild from the wind and rain of late November night time. Dennis smiled at him from the bar and Muriel raised her eyebrows at him knowingly before lifting her glass and returning to her table to rejoin her presumably forgiven friends. Seamus hung his coat up behind the bar and joined Dennis, waving at Muriel.

"All right, Dennis," said Seamus, one side of his mouth tugging up into a smile. They made small talk about the weather as Seamus dried his hair on a towel. "It's absolutely miserable out there."

"I like the cold," Dennis said absentmindedly. "I'm always too warm."

The customers seemed to agree that the weather was becoming a bit too frantic and packed up their belongings and headed home before it could get any worse, Muriel claiming to have left her laundry drying on the line despite the fact that it had been raining all day. Seamus leaned on the bar and Dennis joined him, their shoulders almost touching as they talked. Seamus revealed that he had been asked to join the auror's office again and he was considering accepting their offer this time. Dennis agreed that it would be an exciting job and the pay was pretty good.

Seamus took that time to pull out his wand and start clearing up empty glasses from the tables. One customer came in during the rest of the night and he did not stay very long. Dennis stayed and talked to Seamus even though his shift was finished; only sneaking away once to drink his second last wolfsbane potion (of the seven he had to drink this week) and returning with a grimace on his face much to Seamus's amusement.

"You look like you ate something nasty," the Irish boy commented, raising an eyebrow and making Dennis shift nervously from foot to foot as he thought of an explanation but Seamus just laughed it off. Looking the younger boy up and down he said, "You're a really weird kid, you know?"

"Do you know any good jinxes?" the boy asked, ignoring him. "I was thinking about it last night but most of them just aren't that funny when you think about it."

"Ever seen a good bat bogey jinx? They're pretty fierce," he laughed remembering Ginny Weasley casting one on Dean once in School. "And then there's furnunculus."

He seemed to totally forget about what they had been about discuss and Dennis let out a sigh of relief and returned to his spot beside the older boy, making sure their arms brushed this time. With his heart beating wildly, he waited and he could have cheered when Seamus never moved his arm away and, instead, turned and smiled at him and nudged him playfully, keeping the contact the whole time.

About an hour before close, Tom appeared by the bar and gave them permission to close early and went back to bed mumbling to himself and coughing. The two boys looked at each other then Seamus suggested they go for a few drinks in the city since they were both not working the next day and could spend the day recovering. Dennis hesitated, unsure whether it would be safe for him to go out the night before a full moon, but from what he could remember, it would only be the following night that the moon would have any effect on him so he agreed finally and allowed Seamus to take the lead.

They managed to close up quickly and Seamus led him off Charing Cross road and then they walked up to the top of Shaftesbury Avenue and stopped just before they hit New Oxford Street. Seamus spread his arms out in front of him to reveal what looked like a tattoo parlour. Dennis looked dumbfounded and he wondered if they were about to get tattoos when Seamus grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him through the doors to the sound of loud music and thrashing bodies travelled up through the floorboards. Seamus led him down a winding set of stairs and into what looked like someone's basement. Groups of people young and old around gathered around a small bar or danced around tables to Muggle Chart music as four girls mixed elaborate drinks. There seemed to be a pirate theme as far as the decor was concerned and model ships lined a shelf above the bar.

The music pulsed in their ears as Seamus squeezed into the bar and returned with a drinks menu, passing it to Dennis. The younger boy took it gingerly and, trying not to appear completely helpless, picked a Long Island at random. Seamus grinned and told him it was his favourite and disappeared to the bar once more to order two each. Dennis laughed when the Irish boy returned with four flagons of cocktail.

"Cheers," they both said and clinked their glasses together and got started. Dennis was surprised by how strong it was but he decided he liked it and happily drained the glass much to Seamus's amusement.

"What?" Dennis inquired. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope," Seamus smiled before copying the boy. "It's going to really kick in a while, though, so I hope you're prepared."

"How bad could it be?"

The cocktail club was open till 2am and, with half an hour left, Dennis was dancing on the bar with one of the barmaids – an Argentinean Tano, he pronounced – lavishly dipping and twirling her on the small surface much to the high praise of the crowded room including Seamus who was cheering from the front. At the end of the song, the pair bowed and Dennis jumped off the bar to applause and pats on the back and Seamus took him by the elbow again and announced they were going dancing and Dennis was happy to comply.

He did not remember the journey or even the name of the club but he remembered they cast a confundus charm on the bouncers to avoid waiting in the queue that stretched up the street and were inside in no time. The main floor was packed body to body as music blared from the speakers on the far end and strobe lights flashed overhead. They bought more drinks then lost themselves somewhere in the middle of the crowd. Dennis never took his eyes off Seamus the whole time. They danced, pulling faces and mocking the gestures of the people around them and had a good time. They were having so much fun that as the crowd started to thin out they decided that they would go back to Seamus's apartment and have another sleepover. Dennis was excited at the prospect of seeing where the other boy lived and was practically pulling him out the door by the hand in his drunkenness.

"Dennis," Seamus laughed, resisting the pulling. "Our coats."

In response, Dennis brought his wand out to summon them, making Seamus very weary of the security team that were watching everything. He calmly took the boy's wand from him and tapped him on the nose with it. "Not in front of the Muggles, Creevey."

The younger wizard rubbed his nose where the wand had tapped it before following Seamus to the cloakroom where they'd deposited their jackets and handed over the ticket stubs and waited for the girl to bring them out to them. Once satisfied that they had everything, Seamus led the way.

They were exhausted by the time they reached Seamus's flat, having chosen to walk rather than wait on a taxi. It was on the top floor of a simple looking block of flats. Seamus explained that the flat belonged to his uncle and that he could never afford to live here otherwise. The space was fairly small but had a lot of colour and character, Dennis thought, not really sure what it meant other than that he liked the place.

Seamus showed the boy to the living room where he threw both their wands onto the glass coffee table before disappearing to the kitchen to return with two bottles of beer. He passed one to Dennis then switched on the radio taking a seat on the floor beside the boy who had propped himself up against the couch. They talked about the pub and the club and Dennis admitted it was his first ever night out, Seamus jokingly beaming with pride upon hearing this.

"So you had a good time, then?" Seamus asked, watching the boy balancing his wand on his now empty beer bottle. He felt pretty drunk and wondered if the boy would be alright having never experienced the feeling before.

Dennis turned to look at him and his gaze caught Seamus's eye and the older boy felt he could not break the contact for fear of ruining the moment. Dennis grinned before replying, "Yep. I'm pretty drunk and you're pretty hot."

Dennis's heart quickened as he realised what he had just admitted. His complexion turned a pale grey colour and he announced he was going to be sick and within seconds, he had thrown up the entire content of his stomach over his chest. Seamus stood quickly and fetched the boy a glass of water, thrusting it under his nose and telling him to drink then remembered the potions he had purchased at the Apothecary that were chilling in his fridge and immediately retrieved them. He passed one to Dennis who drank without instruction and swallowed the other, himself.

"The potion should help fight the nausea from the alcohol," Seamus started. "It might take a while to kick in but just bear with it."

But as soon as he finished talking, Dennis seemed to brighten back up almost instantly and tugged the sicky shirt over his head and let if fall to the floor where it went forgotten. He stood bare-chested in front of the other boy, his pale skin reddening around the cheeks as he apologised for being sick and Seamus could do nothing but laugh.

"I don't suppose you have a spare toothbrush," Dennis muttered and Seamus directed him to the cabinet in the bathroom, hoping that he had one. Dennis disappeared through the living room door and found the bathroom. He tugged the light switch on groggily and felt the potion swirling around in his stomach and felt a momentary shock of panic that it might affect the wolfsbane already in his system but he pushed it to one side and found a toothbrush.

When Dennis returned to the living room, his jaw fell open and he was scared his eyes were going to pop out of his head with shock. Seamus stood shirtless at the other end of the room and was in the process of removing his jeans. When Dennis entered, he looked up and smiled as he shook them off his leg and stood there in his boxers.

"So what was that you said about me being h-hot, then?" Seamus asked, almost tripping over Dennis's shoes as he stepped towards the younger boy. "Because, I think the feeling might be mutual."

Dennis swallowed hard as he looked up into Seamus's blue eyes. Their bare torsos were only inches apart and he could not stop himself from reaching a hand out to touch the older wizard, hesitating in mid motion. Seamus corrected the gesture by taking Dennis's hand and placing it on his own chest. Dennis's palm was on fire as he touched Seamus's body, feeling the soft skin of his belly, his hand trembling above the older boy's waistband. Seamus tilted the boy's chin upwards and smashed their lips together after what felt like a century to both of them. Dennis gasped into the kiss as their chests bumped together, the skin contact sending a tingle down to his groin. His mouth was then assaulted by Seamus's tongue and it sent shivers down his spine as he felt the older boy's erection, through his boxers, pressing against his jeans.

Dennis broke away from Seamus breathlessly. They each regarded the other until Dennis slowly undid his belt, removing it from the loops of his jeans and dropping it to the floor. He pulled at each button on his crotch until the jeans, too, were on the floor. He stepped out of them then backed his way out of the living room and made his way to Seamus's bedroom, his heart hammering away at his sternum with every step until he found the large double bed and lay down, propping himself up on his elbows. Seamus appeared in the room a moment later, discarding his socks at the door and walking over to the bed. He climbed up, between Dennis's legs, and placed a kiss on his lips, their erections sliding together through the fabric of their underwear.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Seamus asked as he kissed down the boy's neck.

"Yes," Dennis gasped and allowed Seamus to kiss gently down his stomach until he reached the waistband of the boy's boxers. Seamus pulled them down as the boy lifted his hips and his erection sprung free, slapping his pelvis. He pulled the garment off the boy's legs and looked over his naked body. As scarred as he was, he was beautiful. "Seamus, I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be," Seamus jumped off the bed and yanked his own underwear off, his massive erection leaking from arousal. "See, I'm naked as well."

He climbed back on top of the boy and trailed his tongue up his neck, their uncovered genitals now becoming very much acquainted. Seamus thrust his hips as he kissed Dennis again, this time it was his hand travelled down the boy's body, tracing his scar. Dennis's member felt good in his hand and he gave it a few tugs, eliciting a moan from the mousy haired boy below him. Without warning, he dropped his head over the boy's erection and licked the tip before swallowing the whole length.

Dennis cried out and his fingers pulled the older boy's head onto his dick and thrust his hips forward. He had never felt anything so good before and he could feel the familiar tightening in his stomach as he approached his climax but Seamus stopped before he could reach it and returned to kissing him – and Dennis did not protest. He put a hand on Seamus's chest and pushed the older boy onto his back, wanting to make him feel good too. He swung his leg over Seamus's body so that he was facing the older boy's massive erection and leaned over and put it into his mouth. He found it hard to fit it all in at once but with a small thrust from the boy beneath him, it entered the back of his throat and he nearly choked. He heard a drawer open and close behind him but he never turned around to see what was happening, he just continued to suck Seamus's dick and found that if he rubbed his balls, the other moaned louder. He smiled as he attempted to deep throat the Irish boy again but stopped as something cold and wet touched his backside.

"What was that?" Dennis asked, turning to look at Seamus.

"It's just my finger," Seamus laughed. "And a bit of lube, don't worry, it'll feel good. I promise."

Dennis eyed him for a moment then nodded and returned to licking the dick in front of him, feeling the cold liquid against his bum again and trying not to squirm away from it. He winced slightly as Seamus slowly entered a finger into him. It stung but it was not bad. He wiggled the finger and struck something inside of Dennis that sent a jolt straight to his cock – which twitched on Seamus's stomach.

"Do that again," Dennis said, stroking Seamus's penis as the older boy complied, sending a wave of pleasure through the boy again. They continued in this fashion until Seamus added another finger, and Dennis felt himself stretching. It was more painful than the last time but Seamus added more lube and the pain eased. Dennis rolled off the older boy who wasted no time in crawling between his legs again. Seamus looked him in the eye once more before lifting the boy's legs and lining his dick up against his hole. Dennis pumped his own dick with his right hand as his left reached down to grab Seamus's hard member. "Put it inside me."

With the invitation, Seamus guided his cock into Dennis's ass. He pushed a little too hard in his drunkenness and the full length tore into the boy and he let out a yelp of pain. He felt like he had just been stabbed in the gut. Seamus gasped his apology and made to pull out but Dennis yelped again and told him not to move. Even though it had hurt, Seamus's dick was in that special spot that was sending major tingles to his own shaft.

"Okay, move," Dennis said after regaining his composure and, as instructed, Seamus pulled slowly out of the boy. He realigned his dick again then pushed in, carefully this time, until he was buried to the hilt. He continued at this pace until the boy beneath him was moaning and fisting his cock. He then sped up until he was pounding the boy. Dennis looked at Seamus's sweaty face and the thought crossed his mind that he was not a virgin anymore, he was actually having sex with another person. He was...he was...

"Seamus, I'm," Dennis started but he could not finish as the orgasm poured through his veins and he climaxed all over his stomach. Seamus grunted and buried his cock deep into Dennis's body as he released spurt after spurt of his thick, sticky load into him, his balls tightening against the boy's rear. Dennis wrapped his arms around Seamus's shoulders and pulled him tight to his body. They lay like that, panting, till Seamus's dick softened and slipped out of Dennis followed by a trail of semen that was left to stain the sheets. They readjusted themselves and Dennis fell asleep in the older boy's arms and Seamus followed soon after.


	5. Chapter 5: The Morning After

**Chapter 5: The Morning After**

Seamus rolled over and flung an arm out to stop himself completely falling out of the bed. The early morning breeze from the open window sent chills throughout his naked body as he closed it. Any other day, he would have gone back to bed but today was different: someone else was in it. He glanced over at the short, mousy brown hair that was currently peeking out from under the gently rising and falling covers. He felt a pang of guilt as the night before rushed back to his mind but he forced the ill thoughts away and stepped into a clean pair of boxers and quietly made his way to the kitchen of his flat.

Making tea the morning after was customary wasn't it? He was sure he'd heard that before, so on went the kettle and before long he could hear the shifting of weight in the bedroom through the wall followed by a frantic scurrying and a resounding "fuck". Seamus felt awkward, remembering how he had clearly made a fool of himself by insisting that Dennis spend the night, promising nothing would happen yet secretly hoping for it. His breath hitched as the boy slinked into the kitchen; he was wearing one of Seamus's hoodies and it was so big for his slender torso that he seemed to get lost in the grey folds. He did not appear to be wearing anything else, Seamus noted, as his eyes crawled over the boy's thighs, suddenly remembering tracing his tongue over the insides the night before. His mouth had gone dry and he felt himself sweating just in time for the kettle to come to a boil and click off. Snapped from his reverie, he poured two cups of tea and passed one to Dennis, noticing how the boy seemed unable to look away from Seamus's bare chest.

"Thanks," said Dennis taking the cup and setting it down on the worktop beside him. "Sorry I've had to nick your jumper, mine's covered in sick. Sorry about that as well by the way: I'm not much of a drinker, me."

"It's fine." Seamus smiled – almost laughed – at the memory of the boy perking back up after he'd emptied his stomach all over himself. Normally it would have been a disgusting image to have etched into the back of your head but Seamus couldn't help finding it endearing. He took a swig of tea as he tried to think of something to say to fill the silence and noticed Dennis doing the same. "You're not working today, are you?"

In his rush to respond, Dennis swallowed a mouthful of hot tea and burned his throat. Between wet coughs he replied croakily, "No, Hannah's got it covered." He looked Seamus up and down nervously before asking him out to breakfast.

Seamus was taken aback. He had expected Dennis to be embarrassed or shy about the night before but was nonetheless charmed by how bold and equally blunt the boy was. Not many people Seamus knew could say, '_I stole you jumper because I was sick on mine_', without turning seven shades of red first but Dennis just shrugged it off as if it were normal. He considered the question; he wanted the chance to apologise for the night before and to stop things becoming awkward between them but he feared that he would not know what to say and would make a mess of it.

"Do you fancy it, then?" said Dennis who had gone white in the face so that the red in his cheeks stood out. He drained the cup, burning his throat again no doubt, and set it down with a shaky hand. "I mean, you don't have to but we drank so much last night and I'm starving..."

"Me too," Seamus agreed without thinking but he _was_ hungry and they _did_ have a good time last night. He really hoped that Dennis enjoyed himself and wanted to stay friends but he would never know unless they talked about it. "All right then, you're on."

"Great," said Dennis beaming before turning away and announcing that he was going to take a shower. He was gone only a couple of seconds before his head reappeared at the door. "Where do you keep your towels?"

Seamus grinned and directed him to the cupboard in his bedroom before turning back to his tea which was steadily going cold in his hands. He could hear the water running and would have sworn he could hear the boy muttering to himself but he pushed it out of his mind and began piecing the memories together from the last night. They had gone to a bar in Soho, it was seedy but friendly and then they'd gone to a club and danced. He had no recollection of when they left or how they got here but everything else seemed clear as day, so much so that a tent had formed in his boxers and he was mentally kicking himself. He was tempted to join Dennis in the shower but he felt it was too soon. They had slept together while they were drunk; making a pass while sober may be committing too much. He forced all thoughts of sex out of his head and went to his room to tidy up and get dressed.

When Dennis had finished, he appeared in the bedroom with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and threatened to fall from his narrow hips. Seamus had stripped the sheets from the bed and was laying out a set of clothes. He looked up as the boy entered and it took all his self control not to let his jaw drop as he took in the pale figure before him, water droplets still dripping down his body in line with the thick red scar that fascinated him. "These were all I could find that will fit you. It looks like you were sick on your jeans as well..."

"Sorry for all the mess," Dennis looked around at the now tidy room. "I have no idea where I left my wand, could you summon it for me?"

"No need. I know where it is," Seamus replied. He told Dennis he would go get it whilst he was changing. He silently cursed himself for agreeing to breakfast as he was finding it hard to look at the boy without wanting to kiss him or even just touch him. Everything had clearly changed and he was stupid to think that it would not be awkward. He grimaced at the state of the living room when he entered it, half-empty beer bottles and sticky glasses left rings on the table and there was an unsightly stain on the window sill that looked like blood but he had no memory of it. Dennis's wand was propped, like a bridge, between the top of two beer bottles and his own was on the floor.

"How do I look," Dennis said from behind him. Seamus turned to see the boy decked out in his old clothes. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead and he had flung the grey hoody on top of the outfit Seamus had loaned him. It was endearing to see someone else wearing his clothes but he had to suppress a giggle as, even with the sleeves rolled up, it was too big for him.

"Dashing," Seamus replied and tossed the boy's wand to him without any warning so his last minute attempt to catch it failed. "You ready to go?"

They sat, face to face, in a small cafe not far from Seamus's flat while they waited on the food they had ordered from their sour-faced waitress. There was an awful silence but before long they started recounting everything that happened the night before, starting from the beginning and working slowly to the topic they were both equally desperate and uneasy to talk about. They spent a good amount of time arguing over how they got home – it was definitely a taxi, thought Seamus but Dennis insisted that they had definitely walked. Even after breakfast had arrived they continued to dance around the topic of sleeping together and maybe, Seamus thought, things _could _go back to normal and they could forget about their encounter.

"So that bloody tree really did a number to you, didn't it?" Seamus asked remembering from the last time he had asked about the boy's scars. "I never realised just how bad your scars were till last night."

Dennis's complexion slipped into a pale grey colour as the subject was broached and Seamus could have sworn he saw a flash of fear momentarily glaze the boy's eyes before he turned his attention to the plate that was put down in front of him. Instead of answering, however, Dennis focused on cramming as much food into his mouth as he could manage and swallowing awkwardly until he gave in to the silence and spoke. "Yeah, they are quite bad, I suppose. It didn't bother you, did it? I know it's a bit gory..."

"I barely noticed," Seamus laughed but made sure to avoid making eye contact. "We were pretty wasted." Dennis nodded in agreement and chewed his lower lip as Seamus finally steered the conversation to the implications of their night together. "We should talk about last night, Dennis."

Dennis swallowed hard and ruffled his hair subconsciously as he agreed, "Right. I mean, yes. We should talk about it."

"I like you, Dennis," Seamus found himself saying without any control of his tongue. His breath hitched in his throat as he debated with himself in his head. Did he want to date Dennis? Or was the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had made a mistake right? He berated himself as he couldn't finish his sentence.

"I like you too, Seamus," Dennis agreed, picking up his fork again and, rolling his eyes continued, "And I'm glad we've settled how much we don't dislike each other..."

"Dennis..."

"Look, Seamus," Dennis started and Seamus felt his body jump a little. "I know you have doubts about what we did – I do too – but I'd be lying if I said it didn't mean anything to me but I'm not a lovestruck little school girl. If you want an out, I'm giving it to you – no guilt and no hard feelings." At this point his eyes locked with Seamus's and he believed the boy.

Seamus opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by their waitress who wanted to get their plates out of the way and seemed eager to hurry them on and out the door but they ignored her. "You're right," said Seamus finally. "I think we might have made a mistake last night." Dennis looked disappointed but a half hearted smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. Seamus's heart hammered in his chest as he looked at the boy in front of him and he made up his mind. "But I think we should find out for sure...if there's anything..."

Dennis grinned up at the older boy and the smile lit up his tired face as he joked, "I knew you couldn't resist me. It was all my charm really, wasn't it?"

Seamus returned the smile and, still debating whether or not he really wanted to pursue a homosexual relationship, played it cool and returned with a jest of his own, "Either that or you spiked my tea this morning."

"I thought all you Irish took whiskey in your tea?"

They laughed, paid their bill and vacated their table, leaving a tip despite their waitress having a bad attitude.

"So, can I walk you to the underground?" Seamus asked, thrusting his hands into his jean pockets and watching Dennis do the same, the ghost of a smile lingering on his boyish face. "Or should I be taking you to the front door?"

"Don't worry," Dennis laughed. "I think we skipped all the formalities of first dates last night. Maybe next time."

"Yeah," Seamus smiled. When they reached the turnstiles, the station was busy so they moved to the wall to avoid being jostled by the other passengers. They stood looking at each other and Seamus had the urge to kiss him but all the bravado he'd had the previous night was gone and he was faced, instead, with a knot of nerves and decided to settle with tousling the other boy's hair as they said good bye. "I'll maybe see you tonight; I'm going to be in the Cauldron at some point."

"No," Dennis said almost automatically and Seamus felt a stab in his chest at the objection. Surprised, he wondered if he had done something wrong but, in one heartbeat, Dennis launched himself into Seamus's embrace for a two second hug before pulling away. "I just meant I won't be there. I'll see you in a few days."

With that said, Dennis turned on his heel and disappeared through the turnstile and into the passenger tunnels leaving Seamus to look on after him, dumbfounded. Seamus left the station thinking about Dennis's dismissal and tried to recall the other boy mentioning going anywhere. He pondered it as he walked home but was at a lost. Was it possible that Dennis just didn't want to see him? He let himself into his apartment and pushed the thought out of his head. He waved his wand in the living room and pushed all the mess to one corner just as there was a tap on the window accompanied by a large tawny owl.

He swung the window out to let the bird in and it flew gracefully to the coffee table and stuck out its leg to witch was attached a brown envelope sporting scratchy black ink. He took the letter and fetched some water for the owl which it drank readily, hooting happily before taking off through the open window again. Seamus flopped down on the sofa and tore open the envelope and unfolded a short stretch of parchment. He recognised the writing as Dean's instantly.

_Seamus,_

_Hey mate, just writing to let you know I got your last letter and you're right. I think you're mad. The Aurors wouldn't keep asking you to join them if it wasn't right for you. I don't think I even need to tell you to take the job. Working in the pub is great but is it really worth everything we went through in school to be stuck pulling pints forever? It's a no brainer._

_France is cool, I met a girl and I think you'd like her but we'll see where it goes before I start sending pictures or anything! What about you, are you still pretending to love being single or have you finally settled down? If not, I'm sure Moaning Myrtle would be thrilled to go on a date with you – I could put in a good word...Or you could come to France and meet some of the girls here. It would be good to see you._

_Write back soon._

_Dean. _

_PS I've got a spare ticket to the Champions League Final next month if you're serious about going to a football match. Cheerio._

Seamus grinned before he scrunched up the letter and threw it across the room to join the rest of the mess. Dean's letter had come at the right time for him and his best friend's advice about joining the auror office seemed to make more sense than the excuses he had been making for himself. As much as he took pleasure in hearing from Dean, his stomach did tumbles as he thought of telling him about what had happened with Dennis. He wouldn't understand, Seamus told himself, before he went back to wondering if he was making a mistake. Did he really want to be with another man?


End file.
